Overdose
by Eduke
Summary: Some people can't handle it when they suffer, and do what they can to forget who they are. Kankurou is one of those people. Warning: heavy drug use, and references to prostitution, slavery, and suicide. We all know it gets happier in the end.


Kankurou didn't remember anything of the night before. He didn't know when he ended up passed out in a cheap motel bed, wearing nothing, and covered in sweat. He wasn't sore, so that was a good sign, and there was no one else with him. But in the end, he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had one less day in his life that he had to remember, and whatever bad things happened, whatever sick things he did, whatever he'd seen, he'd never know. Just how he liked it.  
He sat up, shutting his eyes against the merciless desert sun that shone directly through the dirty window, into his face. His head throbbed, then grew light, and he had to lay down again, hands cupped over his face.  
"Oh God..." he felt something slowly start to rise from the pit of his stomach, and he was forced to ignore his dizziness, and stumble to the bathroom. He didn't quite make it to the toilet, so whatever he'd eaten last night ended up on the floor, while he clutched onto the sink, dry heaving around his sobs. This part was never the greatest, but he kept telling himself it was worth it. It was worth it to go out whenever he could, to chase a high and go somewhere nice; somewhere better than here. After a few minutes, he felt steady enough to lift his head, only to be met with his own face staring back at him, eyes half-lidded and blood-shot. His face was pale, and sweaty, and there were dark bags under his eyes. He smirked weakly at himself, eyes narrowing.  
"And you looked so fucking fabulous last night."  
He choked, gave another dry heave, then staggered over to the bathtub, turning the shower on cold and full blast, before falling in. He laid there for hours, staring up at the showerhead, concentrating on what little bit of rust he could see. How did he end up like this? He, the favoured child of the Kazekage, the most powerful man in the village! He, a fourteen-year-old boy, barely more than a child, already sharing the dark lives of the hopeless adults, near-dead with no futures. He had a future, didn't he? His skills as a shinobi continued to grow, though much slower as of late. He was loved amongst the art community of Suna, a talented puppeteer with so much promise! What promise? He heard it so often, but had he seen it? Not fucking likely. How could he see any worth in himself, with that little brat, that twisted little child...  
He lifted his head weakly when he finally tuned in to the urgent banging on the motel room door.  
"Kankurou! Open the door!"  
It was Baki. Here, again, to save the day. Kankurou just laid his head back and stared at the ceiling. He felt his mouth start to pull back as a lump formed in his throat, and he couldn't stop the tears as Baki finally just broke the door down. And as he was lifted roughly out of the tub, all he could do was cry, not fully aware of what was happening. He was carried from the room, his head rolling back, catching glimpses of the other patrons popping their heads out their doors to see what the fuss was. Baki was yelling, and other shinobi were crowding around them to block Kankurou from view. It was the same every time, Baki and his band of merry men tracking Kankurou down and getting him back home to lie in his bed, locked in his room for days until he was "healthy" again. As they left the building, a blanket was thrown over Kankurou's entire self, and at some point along the bumpy ride, he lost consciousness.

"Kankurou? Are you awake?"  
Kankurou opened his eyes tiredly, to see Temari leaning over him, frowning worriedly. It was dark in the room, but the moon shone through a crack in the blinds, allowing him to see her well enough. She was in her sleepwear, and her hair was loose.  
"What are you doing in here..?"  
"You were yelling. Were you having a nightmare?"  
Kankurou frowned, shutting his eyes again, trying to remember. Nothing came to him.  
"I dunno."  
Temari sighed and sat down on the bed, putting a hand on his arm, "Are you feeling any better? You've been in here for three days. One hell of a flu..."  
Kankurou laughed weakly, "You're telling me," he sat up slowly, and pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, "I feel a lot better. I think I can eat now."  
As he said it, his stomach growled persistently, and he grinned sheepishly. Temari just rolled her eyes and reached for some of the food that someone had left earlier in hopes that Kankurou would eat it. He hadn't woken up since the night before. As she handed him the plate he started to eat greedily. He glanced up to see Temari smiling at him, and he stopped.  
"What?"  
"You look a lot better. All the colour has come back to your face. Think you'll be up and about tomorrow?"  
"Oh, hell yeah. I can feel my strength coming back as we speak."  
He wasn't exaggerating. The more he ate, the more energy he had. He stopped shaking quickly, and finished off the whole plate in minutes. When he was done, he stretched and grinned, "Good as new!"  
Time to start all over again.

He was able to fall asleep quickly after she left, and by the next morning he was back to his usual grumpy self, decked out in his puppeteer clothes, and his face painted the way he liked it. The thought to change it a little had crossed his moment, but had only made him uncomfortable. What was a man without his rituals, right?  
Fresh out of his sick bed, and already his father had a mission for the siblings. Something that Kankurou was grateful for. He'd rather be out somewhere and stuck with Gaara, over being shut up in a house and stuck with him. Gaara got antsy when kept inside for too long. As did Kankurou, which led to one-to-many confrontations between the brothers. That didn't mean the mission was a good one, though.  
"Escorting an 'important authority figure'?" Kankurou growled out, looking irritated, "This is unbelievable. We have to be with this guy every second for two damn days?"  
"Yeah, we do. It'll be a lot better if you stopped whining about it," Temari said cooly, shifting the fan on her back as they made their way towards the front gate to meet their client.  
Kankurou got a worried look on his face for a moment, but forced it away, and put on a scowl instead. Two days with no peace? He felt a cold chill run up his spine, and his hands clenched and unclenched twice. He thought frantically for a way to get at least a little bit of alone time in the next day or so. He couldn't handle another withdrawal, not after last time. He felt sick to the stomach again, and held tightly onto the bandages that held Karasu securely in place. He walked with his eyes set on the ground ahead of him, jaw clenched, and back tensed.  
"Kankurou? Kankurou!"  
His head snapped up, and he stopped to look at Temari. The other two stopped as well, watching him, one looking confused, the other a little murderous. That didn't help Kankurou at all. He glanced at Gaara, and his heart started to pound. He could feel his legs wanting to give out. Did Gaara's eyes just flash red? Was that sand creeping up his leg?  
"What's wrong with you, Kankurou?" Temari moved over to him, frowning, "You're not better, I knew it! Why did you say you were ok, you idiot?"  
"I'm fine! I was just thinking," Kankurou said, a little breathless. Wait, why didn't he go with it? He could spend the next to days in the dens, then he'd be just fine. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.  
"About what?"  
"None of your business," he grumbled, and started walking again, "Lets just get there and get this prick to his hotel."  
Why was he freaking out already? He frowned, then it dawned on him, and he nearly vomited right there. He'd already gone three days, he was already starting to go through days was going to kill him. No matter how much he mentally screamed at himself to turn and run, to go home, to go to the District, to go anywhere but here, he didn't listen. He just walked in stiff silence. His body wouldn't obey what his mind wanted him to do. But it would soon enough, he knew that. It wouldn't be long before he couldn't handle it anymore. He felt a headache start to build rapidly, each step seeming to worsen the pain behind his eyes. Why was it so cold at noon?  
"Looks like he's early," Temari said, as the front gate came into view. There was a sizeable group of people there, all waiting for them.  
"Ok, so he's got that lot with him, why does he need us?" Kankurou snapped, and Temari looked at him, surprised.  
"Kankurou, this is the easiest possible mission we can have! All it means is that he doesn't trust those people enough. He's probably just paranoid. Why are you so pissed off about this?"  
She paused, frowning, then stepped towards him, "Kankurou, you look like you're going to faint, are you ok?" She put a hand on his shoulder, and he jerked away violently.  
This seemed to be hitting him so hard and fast. He hadn't been aware of the hours they'd spent walking across the village, it felt like only minutes had passed. Hadn't he felt fantastic not that long ago? No, it had been days since he'd really felt good.  
"What time is it?"  
Temari got over her initial shock at Kankurou's reaction, and frowned at him, "Why?"  
"Just...what time is it?"  
"Its almost four."  
Kankurou stared at her, then groaned when his head throbbed, and crouched down, head in his hands. He wasn't aware of the way Temari glanced from him, to their client, who was now watching them. He was, however, aware of the way Gaara took a step towards him, and the way the sand around his feet seemed to move ever so slightly. He rubbed viciously at the back of his neck when it tingled, trying to stand up quickly. His eyes went wide as the world in front of him blurred, and he fell forward, not having the reaction time he needed to throw his arms out and catch himself. He hit the ground, the wind knocked out of him, and he stayed there, panting.  
Someone was by his side, pulling him up with some difficulty. But Temari's voice was away from them, she was talking quickly to someone. Trying to assure them of something. Who had him?  
"Get up."  
Kankurou, now on his knees, froze when he heard the cold voice. Then he slowly stood up again, vision starting to clear.  
"You're pathetic. How long has it been, a day? Two?"  
Kankurou could have sworn he heard a smirk in Gaara's voice, but when he looked at him, the boy's face was as blank as ever, apart from the icy glare.  
"You could run, you know. While she's not looking. Go on, you coward, run back to your drug. Keep on running, and running, until you can't see me anymore." His voice sounded deep, and warped, "Its me you're running from, isn't it? Hiding yourself in your own little world, but I know where you are. You can't hide from me."

Kankurou gasped, and his eyes snapped open. He was on his back, where he'd fallen, with Temari leaning over him, holding his face. Gaara was a few feet away, neck craned slightly so he could see.  
"What...?"  
"You passed out after I told you what time it is...Kankurou, you should go home. You're still sick."  
"I don't want to leave you two to do this yourself."  
Temari smiled lightly, patting his cheek a little roughly, "Its not like anything's going to happen. We're in our own village, with a fat, lazy politician, who doesn't plan to step outside his five-star hotel. We'll be perfectly fine without you."  
"I know." He wasn't needed, was he? He didn't know why he kept fooling himself into thinking otherwise. But he didn't have the energy to feel depressed. He just sighed, not feeling much of anything as he shut his eyes.  
"I'll go home."  
"Good. I want you to get better. You have to be in perfect condition for the chuunin exams, remember? Rest up, don't worry about us."  
Kankurou laid there until he felt he had enough strength to move, then he got up, "I'll see you in a couple of days."  
"I'll walk back with you."  
"Nah, I'm fine. If I faint again, there's plenty of people around town who'll help."  
What a load of bs that was. But he smiled at Temari, and she nodded hesitantly. He'd never seen his sister look so concerned. Such a calm, collected person she was. In control of herself. Not like him. He couldn't deny the warm feeling her being worried gave him, but it was countered somewhat by how cold the rest of him felt. He'd thank her later, for now he turned and walked back in the general direction of his home. That's not where he wanted to be at all. When he was far enough away that he felt Gaara could no longer be watching him, he changed his course, and headed for downtown Suna.  
The scene changed gradually from the hustle-and-bustle of the shoppers and children, to the completely dead atmosphere of the shady part of town. It was too early for anyone to be out in this area, save for those unfortunate few who lived here. And they were shut up in their homes, passed out, or on their way there. Kankurou stalked the alleyways and narrow roads, knowing exactly where he was going. It wouldn't be open yet, but he'd be let in. He was the only reason that place, and many others like it, hadn't been shut down. Because his father loved him too much to watch his little boy suffer. So the drug dens thrived, while others around them were raided. Kankurou frowned, trying not to think of the raids he'd seen, or taken part in. His father, or more accurately, the other higher-ups were merciless when prosecuting those who participated in 'sinful acts'.  
It was getting harder for them, however. This part of town was growing, pubs were popping up throughout the village, and it seemed like everyone and their neighbours dog went out drinking on the odd day. And the prostitution! Kankurou knew too much about that for someone who had no part in it. He blamed the company he kept. But who could blame the men and women who had to do whatever they could to feed themselves? He even found it harder, and harder, to hate the parents who sold their children, and other family members, into slavery. Yep, the sex trade sure was booming, as was the drug market. And Kankurou's father, the poor man, was trying his hardest to help the people, even those who did such bad things. That's why he was going against his morals, and taking apart in the ambush of Konoha.  
Kankurou looked around as he walked, hands buried in his pockets, taking in the dirty surroundings. His siblings were lucky, they only knew the friendly-and-poor side of Suna. They had no idea what could happen to someone in this town. Sure, Gaara had it rough, but he had food on his plate every day. That selfish, narcissistic little brat. Woe is him, in all his painful suffering, and his comfy home. So, people were afraid of him, nobody loved him, but what about the homeless? Nobody loved them, no one would go near them, they were feared by those who didn't understand why they were in such a state. So, Gaara had a monster in his head, so did everyone else. Some of those people tried to drown that monster out with alcohol, or narcotics, and look where that got them? Sick, dying, and alone. Gaara couldn't die. He had a family, it was his own damn fault he chose to hate them. Kankurou tried, didn't he? When Gaara was little, didn't he leave toys for the boy outside his bedroom door? His father told him to stay away...he did what he could.  
Why, then, did Gaara do what he did? Why had he hurt his only brother, who had tried his best to tell him he wanted to know him? He'd been what? Eight-years-old? Who could blame him for being a little scared. But he did what he could!  
Kankurou stopped walking, and looked around again. He'd gone too far, too caught up in his own thoughts. He wasn't all there, was he?  
"Why am I thinking about this?" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. There he was again, instead of facing it, he was just going to go forget about it. And even knowing that, he turned, and headed for that familiar, welcoming door, behind which he was going to waste away a little more. And the next morning, Baki would be there to carry him home, pat him on the head, and tell him it would be fine. He knocked on the door, and stared impatiently at it, until it opened, and someone peered out at him.  
"Oh, its you. Come in."  
Nothing more was said after Kankurou entered, and the door was locked behind him. He walked further into the dark room, found somewhere to lay, and waited for the woman to bring him what he needed.


End file.
